


Bathtime Blues

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 2nd Age - Pre-Rings, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2005-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3778790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond has slain more orcs than he can remember and Glorfindel has defeated a Balrog and been to Mandos and back. But are the both of them a match for two slimy, stinky elflings who really, really don’t want to take a bath?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I: Reluctance

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Author’s Notes: In this story I consider Glorfindel of Gondolin and Glorfindel of Rivendell to be the same elf. I have also perhaps taken a liberty in Celeborn’s antagonism towards Elrond, but it is humour, after all.

** *  
  
The real menace in dealing with a five-year-old is that in no time at all you begin to sound like a five-year-old.  
\--Jean Kerr

* * *

Pungent... that was the word for it: a smell that was a blend of earthy mud, sweat and something fowl. Something, the elf lord thought, worryingly familiar. Elrond looked from one small elfling to the other - if that indeed was what they were beneath all that grime - with one eyebrow raised in his typical expression of questioning, "You have been into the old bog again, have you not?"

"It was Elladan's idea!" Elrohir pointed an accusing finger at his brother.

"Elrohir wanted to get across the bog." Elladan said, imitating the gesture.

"He fell in first."

"You pushed me in!"

"I tripped!" Elrohir cried.

Elrond sighed.

"Ada, you believe me do you not?" Whined Elladan.

"Why would he believe you? You always lie, Elladan!"

"I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

"Stop this instantly!" Elrond cried loudly, his face turning red.

The twins looked up, dark, slimy globs rolling down their faces. The old bog was one of the most famed, and forbidden, places for elflings in all of Imladris. In fact, it was probably the fact that it was forbidden that made it so famous. It was actually a peat bog, and the ground was highly unstable. This made it a very dangerous place, for it was easy for one, especially an elfling who was perhaps less sure on his feet than, to sink into the soft mud. Elrond had told his sons this a million times, but now he repeated it again, "You should not go to the old bog. It is very dangerous."

"We know ada." Elrohir said.

"But it’s the best place to catch frogs."

"You did not bring any home, did you?" Elrond asked.

"Of course not." Elladan said, putting a hand in his tunic pocket as if he were trying to hide something.

Elrond chose to ignore that gesture. "Your naneth will be home this evening, with a party from Lothlorien, so I am going to draw a bath and clean the both of you. You do not want to be seen this dirty in front of formal company, do you?"

Instantly, two pairs of gray eyes widened in horror. He had just said the 'b-word'! That was a very dangerous proposition. Too bad Elrond didn't realize how dangerous it was to mention the 'b-word'.

"Wait here. I do not want you walking through the corridors in the state you are now." Elrond, very foolishly, turned on his heel and left them in the hallway. If he were a mother, he would have been wise enough not to; but alas, their nursemaid had found herself with child. As happy as Elrond was for her, when Celebrian had left to visit her parents, he had been left alone with the ‘Morgoth-spawn’ known to others as their sons.

The 'Morgoth-spawn' nodded mutely. Once Elrond's back had turned, a wicked gleam came into their eyes and a silent agreement passed between them: Flee!

Both came in from the doorway, making a point to remove their muddied boots before they split, Elladan taking the corridor that branched left, and Elrohir the one that branched right.

* * *

Elladan made a mad dash down the corridor, splattering mud along the walls and floor. His bare feet made a splattering sound as he went, but somehow he remained sure-footed and did not stumble or slip on the no-doubt slick sludge. After reaching the window at the end of the corridor where Glorfindel's chamber was, Elladan realized that he was cornered. Why did he go into that corridor? There was nowhere good to hide!  
  
Suddenly, Glorfindel's doorknob started to rattle, a sign that it was about to open. Thinking fast, Elladan jumped onto the ledge and climbed out the window, pulling himself onto the roof that hung directly above the window. From there he had an almost birds-eye view of the back gardens, but was effectively hidden by the interlacing branches of a nearby aspen. Once on the roof, he stretched out his limbs and relaxed, certain that he was safe.  
  
Hearing a squelch, Glorfindel blinked and looked down at the floor. 'What is that?' he thought in disgust. He would just have to call someone to clean it up. (Far be it from Glorfindel to resort to the level of a serving maid!) With a disregarding shrug, he continued along the corridor. Abruptly he felt the ground give way beneath him, and his equilibrium being thrown off.

A disgraceful 'Thud!' sounded when the almightily Glorfindel's rear-end hit the hard, still muddied, corridor floor. He gave a yell, and then looked down the corridor. It was clear. He sobbed and stood up, quickly dashing back into his room to get changed and nurse his wounded pride and derrière. That really hurt!

* * *

Elrohir noticed the mud that his clothes were spreading across the floor, and decided that the one way to avoid this would be to strip them off. So he did, allowing them to lie in a stream along the corridor. Then he took a passage to the left, and wandered into one of the storage rooms where he effectively hid himself in a cupboard among some rolled linen. Having left no evidence to raise suspicion, and taken a particularly winding route, Elrohir grinned smugly: he would not be found!

* * *

When Elrond returned to where he had left his sons standing he found them to have vanished, leaving dark bits of stringy muck on the floor. Elrond groaned. The muck though, led in two very definite directions. Now the question was whether to take the left corridor or the right. Which had which twin taken? Elrond was not certain. They had been difficult to tell apart with them as thoroughly soiled as they had been. He hadn’t known it was possible to carry so much grime on one being, much less two so small.

On a sudden impulse, Elrond dashed down the left corridor. This one led near Glorfindel's chamber, and Elrond knew he was within, preparing for the troupe from Lothlorien. Perhaps the other elf-lord had managed to catch one of his 'Morgoth-spawned' sons. Oh, he could only hope...

* * *

Without warning to Elrond, Glorfindel opened his chamber door again. Elrond barely prevented himself from running into it, and when he attempted to stop, he instead slid on the mud and still hit the door in a move most ungraceful and unbecoming of the Lord of Imladris. Pain flared up in his nose and he clutched it with one hand, crouched on the floor. Glorfindel looked down. (He rather liked looking down.)

"Lord Elrond," He asked attentively, staring at Elrond.

Elrond looked up, blood trickling from his left nostril, "Whad?"

"Oh dear. I really am quite sorry." Glorfindel tried to sound apologetic. He really did. But his heart just wasn't in to it.

"No you aren'd."

“Believe what you will." Glorfindel paused, "If I might ask you, Elrond, why exactly were you running in the corridor as such?"

Elrond gave a sniff, "I am trying to find my sons. Have you seen either of them?"

"Nay, I have not."

"This mud..." Elrond looked at it, and stood up at the realization that he was kneeling in mud on the corridor floor before Glorfindel, "this is from one of them."

"I see..."

"I must find them..." Elrond hissed.

Glorfindel paused again, bracing himself to hear of the latest escapades, "What have they done this time?"

"They were in the old bog - and are covered head-to-toe in slime. They fled when I told them that they were to take a bath." Elrond frowned, "Celebrian's parents are here from Lothlorien."

Now, although Celeborn and Galadriel had allowed Elrond to take their daughter's hand in marriage, this did not necessarily mean that they approved of it. True, Elrond and Galadriel could get along quite well. Even Elrond and Celeborn had gotten on for some time. Yet now, there were looks that Celeborn cast upon Elrond that gave him chills. He had a feeling that it was a level of contempt for stealing away his 'precious little girl' and quite probably the reason she so frequently visited Lothlorien. Even when Celeborn congratulated them on their first children there was a strange disapproval to his words, directed towards Elrond.

'There are two of them.' Celeborn had said, casting a sympathetic glance at his daughter for having to endure a particularly hard labor. She had smiled calmly and proudly at him, beaming like the new mother that she was.

'Look at their dark hair and Edain features!' he had exclaimed. Just then Elladan, or at least the one Elrond thought was Elladan at the time, had decided to give one of Celeborn's braids a good tug. 'They resemble their father so.' Celeborn then observed. Elrond eventually decided that this was an insult.

Either way, Elrond knew that he did not want Celeborn 'nor Galadriel to see his sons in their current state, and he knew that he must find them. Elrond was decided to enlist Glorfindel's help, whether he was willing or not.

* * *

They had been running up and down the corridors for several minutes, calling when there was no one else in the vicinity, but had found no trace of the twins. Eventually Elrond and Glorfindel met up in the corridor where they had been initially, standing outside of Glorfindel's chamber. Elrond followed the mud with his eyes, watching the maid mopping by the window.

"They would not..." Glorfindel began.

"They would." Elrond said. "These are my sons."

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Chapter II: Roofs and Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond has slain more orcs than he can remember and Glorfindel has defeated a Balrog and been to Mandos and back. But are the both of them a match for two slimy, stinky elflings who really, really dont want to take a bath?

Elladan sat upright on the roof, for he heard someone trying to climb out the window. He looked down: it was his ada!

Oh no! He was going to be caught and surely made to take a bath. Not having anywhere else to go, he resolved that it was best to get rid of the enemy directly, and, with a whooping battle cry, jumped down onto his adar, still covered in mud. Together they went plunging down towards the foliage beneath, both screaming.

There was a crash and snapping noises beneath the window. Glorfindel resolved that he would not look down... he would not look do—ouch. Well, the elfling hadn't been harmed; Elrond had cushioned his fall. Shaking his pretty head, Glorfindel descended the stairs, unaware of the little figure that followed him on feet nearly as quiet as a hobbit's - except for the squelch of mud.

"Lord Elrond?" Glorfindel inquired. "Are you... uninjured?"

" .... maybe... "

"And you, Elrohir?"

"Elladan."

"Er-" Glorfindel squinted. It was difficult to tell which he was beneath all that grime.

"Right. I think you ought to give your ada an explanation as for why you were on the roof."

Elrond paused in extracting rose thorns from his arms.

"He was going to give me a bath." The elfling said with utmost seriousness.

"And what, exactly, is wrong with a bath? I happen to rather enjoy them. Cleanliness is very important."

Elladan looked up at Glorfindel, aghast at the idea of anyone enjoying a bath.

"In fact—" Glorfindel was never able to finish what he was going to say, for just then there was a yell from behind him, "'Dan! This way! Run, before they get you!" And Glorfindel was nearly bowled over by a naked, still rather grimy, elfling, who took his twin's hand and bolted towards the stables. He stared at the direction they had run off in, blankly.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go and get them!" Elrond grumbled.

"Would you like me to fetch you... ah... some assistance first?"

"I want you to get my sons before they run into Galadriel and Celeborn looking like that! Go!"

"Yes my lord!" Glorfindel made a mock salute, and started walking towards the stables.

* * *

The smell of horse manure penetrated everything. Well, it was a stable after all... and it was not too bad, although it obviously needed a cleaning. Where was that lazy stable-boy?

And there was no sight of Elrond's ‘Morgoth-spawn’ either. Couldn't say that he hadn't tried, Glorfindel reasoned, and began walking away when he suddenly heard a giggle.

Ears twitching, he followed the bell-like sound down towards the end, and peered into a stall. Then it came from across the path, another stall, and then from the hayloft. Then there was, oddly, a croak. He looked around, trying to figure out where these little noises were coming from.

Then he heard a loud croak from "Fiery Fioner's" stall. Fioner was probably one of the most aggressive horses to ever come into existence, and without her master, Erestor (the one elf she ever obeyed, though reluctantly), she was unpredictable and treacherous.

Picturing Elrond's angry face if he failed, Glorfindel proceeded into the stall, cautiously. He didn't see the horse, and hoped desperately that she was out for a brushing or a ride. There was no sign of an elfling in the stall. There was just some hot, grassy breath on the back of his neck.

Glorfindel very slowly turned around. "Oh shi—"

* * *

Elladan and Elrohir, laughing, came down from the hayloft, looking even dirtier than before with bits of straw and other things stuck in their hair and all over them. Elladan reached into the bottom of Fiery Fioner's stall and pulled out a small, abused-looking frog. It croaked reproachfully at him and gave him an expression more suited to solitary puppies in boxes at fairs.

They left the barn and stood outside for a little while. Elladan scratched himself furiously.  
"Take off the clothes... that way the mud will not harden between you and them and get all itchy."

Elladan took off his tunic as told, effectively matching Elrohir in their nakedness. They gave each other a huge grin, and started trekking nakedly onwards, indoors...

"You!" A loud, angry voice called from behind them. They turned around and looked.

"Get back here!" Called their ada's voice; he sounded very mad indeed.

"Run, Elladan!" Elrohir cried, but he didn't need to, because his twin was already off. Together, they broke into a run.

* * *

"Lord Elrond—" Erestor said, but was cut off as said elf lord sped off, "Ah... I was told to inform you that the Lord and Lady of Lorien are awaiting your presence... but I can see that you are otherwise preoccupied."

* * *

To be continued...


	3. Chapter III: A Lucky Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond has slain more orcs than he can remember and Glorfindel has defeated a Balrog and been to Mandos and back. But are the both of them a match for two slimy, stinky elflings who really, really dont want to take a bath?

Elrond had been lucky. He had managed to corner the elflings, and now was stalking in the direction of the house with one under each arm. Glorfindel was nowhere to be found by Elrond, but he was limping and groaning towards the house as well, a little while later.

Elrond headed into the baths with his ‘Morgoth-spawn‘. There, with the door closed and towels ready, he unceremoniously dropped both twins into the tub, not bothering to check the temperature of the water first. Both promptly started screaming that it was too cold.

"ADA! It is freezing!"

"ADA! Let us out!"

"ADAAA!!" They cried together, splashing him to show him just how cold the water was.

"Fine." Elrond relented, dripping, and allowed both elflings to crawl out of the deep tub and wrap themselves in towels, shivering pathetically. "I shall leave for a moment to fetch some hot water. Do Not Leave this room."

"Yes ada."

"We will not leave..."

The door closed.

"Until you do!" They cried together, bursting from the room, giggling.

* * *

Elladan, Elrohir and a poor little frog, scampered along the corridor, wet feet pattering along the floor. Remarkably, they managed not to trip. They turned a corner, and were suddenly met face-to-face with Glorfindel.

"That horse! You little... I shall throttle you!"

Elladan and Elrohir screamed and they broke into a run. This was followed by a chase scene, of course; doors were opened and slammed shut, Glorfindel slipped a few times. There were yells, curses, crashes that sounded as if they were made by priceless Numenorean vases, and one elf-maiden's indignant shriek at Glorfindel just before he was cast out of her chamber.

Eventually, when Glorfindel thought that he could handle no more of the chaos, he caught sight of the naked elflings making for the Hall of Fire entrance, where he knew Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and their escort from Lothlorien probably were staying, chatting with Celebrian over tea.

"They would not dare to..."

They would. Unworriedly Elrond's sons burst into the Hall of Fire and rushed to where their mother was seated. There they climbed onto the table and sat in the middle of it, putting on an act as if they were frightened or upset. "Nana!"

"Nana!"

"Save us!"

"Ada tried to drown us!"

"And Glorfie said he would throttle us!"

Celeborn stared at the naked elfling that was his grandson, sitting in the middle of the table in front of him, dripping water, though there was still mud and hay in his hair. He raised one eyebrow.

Elrohir latched onto Galadriel, rubbing his muddy head against his grandmother's white dress. She looked down and frowned a little.

"Save us!" They implored together.

Just then Glorfindel limped in, looking as frazzled as ever and smelling of horse manure.

"Those little..." He reached the table and gave everyone an awkward grin, "Those little... rascals. They ran away during their bath..."

"I am glad to see you too, Lord Glorfindel. But I hope that you do not seriously intend to do that to my grandsons." Galadriel said coldly.

He stared at her, eyes widened.

"You really should guard your thoughts better."

Glorfindel thought he was really in for it now, but just then Elrond came in, bearing two large buckets of hot water, which he then abandoned at the door. He was in a state, basically, the opposite of his sons. His head was wet whereas his tunic was muddied after carrying the two.

Elrond reluctantly approached the table. Celeborn raised the other eyebrow at his son-in-law, both eyebrows now coming dangerously near his hair-line.

"Do not drown us ada!"

"We beg of you!"

Both twins scampered over the table, effectively knocking over everything in their paths, until they were able to clamour onto Celebrian's lap and wrap their arms around her.

"This is most unusual Elrond." Galadriel said.

"I was merely trying to bathe them—"

"He was trying to drown us, nana, really - he was!"

"I was not."

"And Glorfindel was going to throttle us!"

"I was not."  
  
"Save us!"

"We were not!" Elrond and Glorfindel chorused together.

"Were to going to."

"Were not."

"Were to."

"Were not!" Elrond suddenly felt very young, but he couldn't stop there and let them get the last word. Celebrian grinned at her husband, eyes twinkling with barely contained mirth.

"Were to!"

"Were not!"

"Were not!" Elladan and Elrohir grinned.

"Were to!" Glorfindel and Elrond cried, not realizing their fumble until it was too late.

"You see nana, they were!"

Meanwhile the frog had hopped onto Celebrian as well, and was looking up at her hopefully. In an attempt to distract her sons, she picked up the frog and asked, "Where could this frog have come from?"

"We found him today."

"His name's Bella."

"Cause that's what he says."

"I think that his skin looks rather dried out..." Celebrian winked at the adults present.

"Well, it does..."

"Indeed."

"Maybe if you give him a bath I’ll let you keep him until tomorrow morning, but then you must let him go."

"But Nana..."

"It is either that, or else Lord Glorfie brings him back out to the bog right now."

"Well..."

"If it means we can have Bella for a little while longer."

"Good. Shall we go?" Celebrian stood up, taking her sons each by the hand in a gesture that made Elrond extremely jealous for the ease with which it was performed. She led her sons from the Hall, to a bath that they were willing enough to take, and Bella overjoyed.

Now Celeborn and Galadriel turned their eyes to the frazzled, muddy, wet, stinky, bruised, prickled, annoyed elf lords.

"My daughter was never like that... I do sometimes wonder where they get it from." Celeborn said.  
  
Galadriel smiled, but said nothing, inclining Elrond to believe that she agreed. If Celeborn had been a little impervious to their daughter's true nature, it was just as well.

"Oh yes, and Lord Glorfie," Celeborn said, snickering a little at the title. "I spotted a beautiful mare in the stable... I was wondering if you could saddle her for me later on this afternoon."

"Which mare." Glorfindel asked, with a sense of dread.

"Oh you know, that lovely, tall, dark beast. Fi... Fiona... Fioner, I think her name was."

* * *

The End.


End file.
